Only When I Sleep
by dustie-snark
Summary: Sarah has a recurring dream about the final scene.  Again and again.  rating just to be safe.  WIP, hopefully not OOC.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the idea, yadda yadda. Blah blah David Bowie perfect Goblin King blah, Jim Henson brilliant blah, Jennifer Connelly amazing blah.

**Disclaimer, Part 2:** I've read so many Labyrinth fics that I'm sure I've assimilated many author's ideas into my subconscious. If I've directly infringed upon anyone's work, please let me know [via private message, not review if you please and I'll fix that. Other than that, enjoy!

Anyway, enough blather. On to the story! 

**Only When I Sleep**

**by dustie-snark**

_Chapter One_

Sarah fell into bed, exhausted. All day long, she'd had a feeling as if there was something she was missing just around the corner, something she had forgotten to remember to forget…

But it seemed as if the fates were working against her. There had been small emergencies all day at the bookshop where she worked part-time. First, a shipment had failed to arrive, and when she had called to check on its progress, she found that the order had gotten mislaid and she was forced to place a new one. Then a small horde of tourists had piled in, and done nothing but poke through the stacks, take books off the shelves and scatter them throughout the store. Not only had they not bought anything, but she was fairly certain that they had stolen a few books. As she had surveyed the damage, she had mused that they reminded her vaguely of goblins. At that thought, the feeling of a significant memory increased, but try as she might to remember, it only slid further away.

Just then, one of her old literature professors had come into the shop, and they had a lengthy conversation while he placed an order for books for his incoming students. Minor occurrences had continued until the end of her shift, where she quickly hurried next door for a bite to eat at the deli, then walked over to the theater where she volunteered. Her students had worked hard on their lines, so she helped them walk through a few scenes before finally escaping home to a cup of tea and grading her high school students' English papers. She had mused that her weekends were often more hectic than her weeks.

And now, she was too tired to think any further. As she closed her eyes and slid into the arms of Morpheus, a white owl came to rest in the tree outside her window.

Lightning struck, and she was once again standing before him. _Ah, yes,_ she mused. _This is what I had been forgetting. It's my yearly plague from the Goblin King, sore loser extraordinaire. _On each anniversary night of his defeat, she was doomed to repeat the same scene, and had become quite tired of it, in fact. In the past, she had tried taking sleeping pills, or staying awake, but neither succeeded.

The scene was largely the same, yet she was older, taller. Just as she had changed, so had he; he seemed, if possible, even more seductive. In a corner of her mind, she mused that perhaps because she was now aware of his intense sexuality, it was augmented even further. It wasn't fair that her dreams were so vivid, while her love-life was sadly lacking in tangible men to sweep her off her feet. She had tried to fight comparing the men she dated with the Goblin King, but it seemed that her subconscious refused to comply with her wishes. Faced once more with the most seductive of men, she gave a half-hearted sigh of defeat. She'd never be able to find a man while she still had these dreams.

As he prowled toward her, she managed to force the now-familiar words out. "Give me the child." Was he allowed to look so good while threatening her?

"Sarah, beware," he growled. "I have been generous up until now, but I can be cruel."

Her dream self laughed at him bitterly. "Generous? What have you done that is generous?" _Condemned me to go through this every year?_ she continued in her mind. _Is this some sort of joke to you?_

His eyes flashed, and he circled her slowly. "Everything! Everything that you wanted I have done. You asked that the child be taken; I took him. You cowered before me, I was frightening. I have reordered time, I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for you! I am exhausted from living up to your expectations. Isn't that generous?"

Even as the scene played out, she saw how weary he had been, and ached to soothe him, to release him from her petty childhood wishes. Yet she continued, in a trance, "Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the goblin city. For my will is as strong as yours, and—"

"Stop!" He looked as desperate as she felt. "Wait. Look, Sarah. Look what I'm offering you." He produced another crystal and held it out to her. "Your dreams."

She reached out for the crystal, but he beckoned her over to stand close to him. Frowning in confusion at this change in their routine, she nevertheless complied and looked into the ball, eager to see what her dreams had been at the time. She supposed she'd see her mother returning, or herself on stage in triumph as a successful actress.

Instead, she saw herself dressed in a black gown, glittering from the onyx and diamonds scattered across the bodice, kneeling before a dais. Jareth stood before her with a silver crown, and, as she watched, he placed it on her head gently, then lifted her to stand beside him. He kissed her slowly, intensely, then turned and presented her proudly to the crowd with eyes full of love. She could hear nothing, but his mouth formed the words, "My wife and my queen." Her image was glowing, radiant with happiness, and her eyes mirrored Jareth's gaze.

It swirled, and this time she saw them together once more, sitting in thrones side-by-side, listening to an ambassador. As the man spoke, Jareth reached over and captured her hand in his, smiling at her gently as his thumb caressed her wrist. Her image smiled back at him, and squeezed his hand, then turned her attention back to the ambassador. When he finished speaking, she leaned over and spoke to him, then Jareth stood and gave a decision.

The image shifted again, and it showed Sarah sitting on a thick rug before a fire, staring into it. Jareth walked up to her, dressed in a casual outfit, and lay down beside her, propping his head on his hand as he spoke to her. He lifted a hand and began running his fingers through her hair, then, after a while, he lay down with his head in her lap. The mood was so comfortable and so full of love that she felt her mood improving as she watched.

It shifted once more, to show them dancing in their bedroom. He was shirtless, and she was in an extremely revealing nightgown. He was singing to her softly, and slowly twirling her in time with the song, dipping her a few times. She was smiling and laughing, happier than she'd looked in years. He suddenly stopped singing and pulled her close to him, kissing her slowly. As she eagerly responded, the crystal dimmed.

Sarah jerked back, pushing down the longing that had suddenly surfaced when she'd seen them together, so uninhibited. "Stop trying to distract me with empty wishes," she said angrily, looking up at him with flashing eyes. It was hard enough that she was forced to dream this each year, but to tempt her with what could have been was a level of cruelty she didn't think possible from him.

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, which seemed to mock her. "But aren't they your wishes?"

She took a deep breath, and prepared for the biggest lie she'd ever tell. "No. Not at all." After all, there was no telling the lengths he'd go to exact his revenge; look at what he'd done already. She didn't know if she could handle it if he decided to make her dreams more exquisitely painful. She turned away, unable to look at him as she shook her head. They stood silently for several seconds, then she finally turned back to him, her struggle etched on her face. "I've come this far! Give him to me!"

He said softly, "Just think of all you could have, Sarah."

"I can't." Her voice broke, and she could not continue. She looked up at him, the ache deep inside her intensifying. "Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered," she rasped again, and stopped for a moment, unable to go through any more at the look in his eyes. His face was like stone, unreadable, but his eyes… She knew they would continue to haunt her dreams for years to come.

She turned away, blinking back tears, aching at the choice she was being forced to make, and decided to skip to the end. "—and my kingdom as great."

He seemed to sense her faltering, and he turned her to face him. His face was pleading, and his hands squeezed hers lightly. "I ask for so little. Just let me rule you and you can have everything that you want. Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave."

Suddenly she remembered the terror she had experienced at his hands, eight years before, and each time she was forced to go through this scene with him. _Just get through this, it's only another dream,_ she told herself firmly.

She lifted her face to him, her resolve written clearly. A single tear trickled down her face, but there were no other signs of her inner turmoil. She spoke clearly, firmly, as she brushed the tear away imperiously. "You have no power over me."

He flinched, then regained control once more, his face granite. "As you _command_, my lady." His lips twisted over the stressed word, as he brought a crystal up once more. But this time, Sarah felt herself sucked into it, and jerked.

She sat up, gasping for air. She was in her room, again, surrounded by her old belongings. She crouched on her bed, unable to breathe at the sudden force of longing that swept through her. She'd done the right thing, hadn't she, in returning her brother? But if she had, then why did she feel as if she'd made the worst decision of her life?

She missed him so much. Here, in reality, he was unwilling to make himself known. In choosing this life and her brother over Jareth, she had essentially said goodbye forever. She would never see him again.

Yet she was cursed to continue going through the experience in her dreams. She bent her head and lifted a hand to her forehead as bitter tears sprang to her eyes. It was going to be another long night.

**Author's note:** I actually didn't mean to write angst; it just kinda came out. This is part one of a possible two-shot, but seeing as it's the end of the summer, I will have other things demanding my time now, too. As soon as I actually write the other half to this [not as angsty, I promise! I'll put it up. Do let me know if you like it. (Ah yes; song title is from The Coors.)


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